Battle Not with Monsters
by HaziestShade
Summary: The story of the Cleric beast. How a man becomes a monster and how even a monster may weep.


He panted, his body wracked with waves of pain. Gods be good. Gods be merciful. His arm had stretched, down and further like a child tearing at a ragdoll it had popped from it's socket.

They had killed Marya too late. By the time they found her there was nothing of Marya was gone and all that was left was a beast slavering in her skin. Leo had nearly fainted at the sight of her. Her muzzle buried in his innards. She had raised her head as they entered and that pelt matted with blood, eyes yellow and unthinking had been almost too much for him.

If ever he had wanted to weep, that would have been the time.

Willis had been an old friend, a dear friend of Henry and Marya both. Long hours they had spent together at study, prayer, and hunt. But those had been better days. Willis was a good man, a better hunter. But he had loved Marya, and he had stayed his hand for too long.

Henry had driven the stake through her heart himself. She would have thanked him had she still able to utter words. Had her voice not been stolen in place of howls...and whimpers. They had burned her and Willis together, there was little enough time for separate pyres. The smell of burned flesh had become commonplace to him. A smell almost appetizing, almost identical to the smell of cooking meat. Until you smelled it, that hint of corruption beneath it all. It made him ill and the sting of smoke made his eyes water.

The sight of Willis, his Willis, prone on the pyre stuck in his mind more than the countless unspeakable scenes he had witnessed on the hunt.

He could not allow himself to become what Marya had. He could not allow himself to become a beast. Panting and clutching his chest. Don't look down, not at your hands/paws no, don't look. He scrabbled to the floor.

He had found refuge in an abandoned house near the bridge. The few clerics left we're pups no, wrong word, novices, they hadn't the stomach to kill him and make an end of it. He was the eldest cleric left alive. And they were so afraid. Pangs of hunger jabbed like daggers at his stomach.

Leo, my boy, Leo you ought to have killed me. One last mercy for an old man. He rued.

They ought to have killed him as soon as the fur came, it itched furiously at the beginning, gods, day and night it had itched and he had scratched himself raw...until he had noticed his hands, the nails on his hands hardening, sharpening until a brushstroke drew blood. Blood. Fear the-The thought flit away. It was harder to think.

He was starving. Always starving. He had...he had devoured the houses' last dweller. He had been dead already, a gun in his hand. His body had long rotted but he was hungry so hungry and the bones had cracked beneath his jaws...marrow flooding his tongue and gods how his jaws had ached and throbbed before...and he had gnawed the bits of spoiled meat (flesh) left on the bone.

But that had been days ago and the hunger had returned, unbearable. It went in tides of agony, his stomach jabbed with innumerable spears. He wanted needed food yet Henry knew where food would come from if he succumbed. Willis...you damned fool. You wretched imbecile, you knew what she was. You knew she was starved.

His feet were unsteady. Bent at odd angles the bones warping and stretching. That had been torture almost worse then the hunger. He had screamed his throat raw, howling in pure agony.

Marya...how she had screamed through that door. Willis had not been able to look at her so it had fallen to him to gag her.

His legs, horrible twisted things barely supported him and he fell hard to the ground.

The floor was filthy, but he put his hands on the floor for balance. They were long enough now that he barely need bend.

He knew what he smelled. He would ask them to kill him. Gods help him he even knew who he smelled. They must've sent a search party for him. The last of the clerics.

Please Leo. A stake through the heart, a funeral of cleansing fire. Perhaps he might find a dream, then, see Willis and Marya one last time. That was the best he could hope for. A failure as a healer. A failure as a man. But Leo would not could not fail, he had Leo himself trained him as a hunter. The closest he would ever have to a son. My child, Leo, you are a true believer, a fine lad. Grant me one last mercy. Do what needs to be done. A sharp jolt of agony ran up his spine making him shudder.

He'll do what we ought to have done for Marya. Oh. She asked. She begged and yet…" He nearly wept from the pain, like searing pokers in his back. We damned her Willis. The both of us damned Marya and- He arched his back and screamed. The pain seemed infinite, a burning hell uncoiling inside him.

"Oh God mercy, mercy, grant me mercy!" he cried. But he deserved the pain, he knew. Bile burned the back of his throat as the pain tore through him. I left Marya to suffer this, she asked me for mercy and I denied her. Gods be good I denied her. Tears ran down his cheeks, God had taken Willis as punishment and left him with the hunger, the wretched ravenous hunger. The truth came to him then, crueler then the pain, he deserved no mercy.

And still, he hungered, the smell of incense barely masking the scent of shit and ash. But strongest of all he smelled the blood. Mercy. please.

He squeezed through the door, his legs jutting out behind him as he crawled. He did not like to think of the figure he made. The fur that covered near all of his skin, rough and bristled, nor the teeth that had forced their way out of his gums, and to meet them his bones had warped and twisted, his jawbones jutting from his face like a mast made of bone. The mind and body it twists to it's whims. Gods have mercy on us all. His shoulders had swollen grotesquely and he jammed one barely forcing himself through the door, now too narrow for him.

Dusk had lit the sky aflame, radiant oranges and golds draped across the sky like a cloak of flame; yet through the blazing veil the moon still shone, it's dull light like ash to the sunset's flame. A pale single eye staring at him with reproach.

The bridge was deserted. Luggage and provisions carelessly strewn about the bridge, curiously it was barren of corpses. Perhaps they had crawled off elsewhere to die. And yet...he still smelled it, the sweet rot of incense and burning flesh. People. He turned towards the rusted gate, just past it was the church ward, his home once.

Like lightning, a memory struck his mind. One from a better time, Marya, Willis and himself together in the garden, so young they'd been then. Henry had wrapped his arm around him, teased him about being so bookish, more interested in words then air, he had said, smiling. Henry had smiled with him before smacking him lightly with his book to Marya's gales of laughter.

The gate screamed and rose slowly like the maw of a great beast and as a coach rushed through.

The red pulsed in his mind and then crashed like a tide against a dam. He was salivating; his stomach jabbed with a thousand blades and try as he might, he could no longer picture the garden . The dam has broke. He ran. His legs and arms working in tandem, powerful now. He could smell them. Flesh. Meat. Food.

The Horse startled rearing in terror and he tore at it's throat with one slash of his claws. He could eat it. Rip into it's guts and taste the warm blood. The heart still beating. The coach collided with the wall. Screams rose from within, he ripped at it with his claws, the wood splintering and a shrill shriek rising from within. Flesh. Meat. Prey. was inside. The carriage shook with the force of his flows and the screams grew louder, glass shattered as a searing pain ripped through his side.

He roared and it echoed furious in the air. KILL. RIP. tore through his mind. The meat emerged from the coach in black vestments smelling of smoke and pain. He leapt at it, it's eyes widened white as moons as his claws rent his flesh. Hot blood filled his mouth and meat followed as his teeth tore into in his prey. The pain throbbed but he kept eating, an eye bursting in his mouth.

Screams filled the air and excitement swelled within him. Terror. Rip. Devour.

"Shoot it for God's sake!" A bang shattered the air and something singed his ear. He bellowed in rage, his claws parting flesh like a dagger through cloth. The prey only whined faintly as his jaw locked on his neck. Bones snapping and skin tearing like parchment.

Inside the carriage, the prey (Leo!) raised an ax. He let his meal fall boneless to the ground and turned to face him.

Hunger pulsed within him, a constant stabbing pain and it was a fire in his belly and he needed to devour to eat to rip and- Leo. my son. Do it. Leo do it. End it. Tear into the soft salty flesh until he was sated, he raised his claws and prepared to...his eyes full of fear, ax raised, he knows me, Leo do it please.

The prey raised his ax tears glimmering in his eyes. Do it. The beast's claw stilled in midair and the prey shook as the ax dropped from his hand; hitting the bridge with a clatter. Leo shook with sobs.

The beast bore his teeth the hunger burning white-hot inside him.

The boy (PREY) looked at him, his face frozen in terror. His lips moving as if pleading but only one word escaped him.

"Henr-"

His claws rent through his armor and he screamed, the beast grinned but inside his screams mingle with Leo's.

A whispery voice hidden deep inside him wanted to sob. Gods have mercy, I did not want this. It was only for love that we're undone, Marya, Willis, my friends, my son, I never wanted this.

The beast feasted on the fresh meat, cracking the bones for their marrow, savoring the soft sweet flesh. The youngest was freshest, oh, and slowly he devoured the tongue, the thighs so plump, and the heart still hot and steaming in the night air.

His paws left bloody prints as he stalked, there was food, yes...more food across the bridge. There he would wait and there his prey would arrive.

All of us damned, damned and dead, all for love. The voice cried out once last time and died. A candle's flame snuffed with nary a whimper. All that remained in the darkness was hunger.


End file.
